


My Little One (Michael Myers X Child!Reader)

by BabyPandu, Macabre_Runes



Series: Killers Little Monster [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Child Abuse, Child Death, Crazy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, OOC, Pain, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Child Abuse, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-21 16:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13744461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyPandu/pseuds/BabyPandu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macabre_Runes/pseuds/Macabre_Runes
Summary: An abuse father causing you to run away for the night in hopes of finding a place you can actually get a good night sleep. Taking refuge in the old Myer's house could only be a good thing right?





	1. Accidental Sleep Over

**Author's Note:**

> Well. I may or may not be obessed. I just watched halloween 1 today. this kinda takes place right after it. I havnt seen the other movies. I made this purely for fun, and because i love this man. I dont care hes crazy and kills people because he likes it. ;3; hes just misunderstood i swear. 
> 
> i forgive him in every game of dead by daylight that he hooks me ;3; he is a good boi. 
> 
> plus the guy is 6 foot eight. like.. my heart is gone. good boi 
> 
> reader is 2 foot 6 here. smol child. yes i know is quite short. fuckin sue me, go write ya own cringey fan fiction if ya dont like it- REEEEEEEEEEEEEE
> 
> Edit : 03/10/19 plans for this story have changed, this is now a prolouge story, going to be a dead by daylight story after this prolouge. 
> 
> I plan on making this a series and an actual stories. so if anyone has ideas for one shots to do on the side, PLEASE tell me ;3;

You ran pretty fast for a kid your age. Your little legs and bare feet pushing you to move faster across the cold pavement. It was late. You didn’t get a chance to check a clock before running out but you knew it had to be past ten. You weren’t dressed for a late night run but here you were. Light green night gown and all.

Your father had gotten violently drunk again. You managed to run out of the house while he was arguing with your mother. You didn’t want to be caught in the middle or hear the screaming again. Not another sleepless night. You would go back in the morning, but for tonight you ran, hoping to find someplace safe to rest within the shabby neighborhood.

It didn’t take too long before you stumbled across an old abandon house. Fenced off with a falling apart ‘For Sale’ sign in the front. The house had been there and abandoned longer than you had been alive. It would do for tonight. There had been stories about people being killed in this house, or so you thought. You weren’t quite old enough to care about things like that. All you cared about right now was sleep.

Carefully you crawled under a gap in the chain fencing, sneaking your way through to the front door. The place looked empty from the outside, the old wood rotting from obvious years of being uncared for and abused. It had been a few months ago that the rumors of the house began to stir up again. Your mother had been quite over protective in those months, saying something about a killer being in town. Again these were things that didn’t really matter to you. You had second grade to work on, and at eight years old that was the biggest thing in your life.

You managed to push open the front door, seeming like it was barley on its hinges, giving a whining creak as it was forced open slightly and shut again. The place was dark and musky. Wreaking of a stench you knew not where it came from or what it was.

But oddly it felt nicer to be in than your actual home. Once you were in the house, you felt a chill run down your spine. Your eyes traced the battered room for something, you knew not what. On finding nothing you began to walk, hoping to find a room with anything more comfortable than a rotting floor to sleep on.

Going from room to room didn’t quite ease your tension of the place. Each room feeling like it was only getting darker and more run down. Some parts of the house looked like a warzone, not like it had fallen apart by the tell of time. But like someone was actively breaking things, the ceiling falling apart in some rooms, while in others entire walls had been forcibly pushed down most of the way.

But you continued your quest for a comfortable place to sleep despite all the warning signs and debris. Soon coming across a set of stairs you did your best to climb them. You climbed the stairs on all fours, finding it difficult to do at your height and the tallness of the steps. You were very small for your age, not quite having hit any major growth spurt in a while. It didn’t help that your father barley worked, there was little to no food ever in your house, making you as fail and skinny as any child could be.

Your height disadvantage still didn’t hinder you from getting to the top of the stairwell, hugging to one of the rotting posts at the top of the stairs you looked from door to door, hoping to judge with door was a bedroom before going into one.

Your foot had moved forward, ready to take a step towards a room before you froze. You had heard something from down stairs. A creak. Very faint but still a definite sound of the floor boards bellow. Your nerves melted, suddenly everything you didn’t care about came to you. Everything you had ignored about this house dawned in fear.

Another creak, this time of a stair. Daring to look back you were met with a pair of black holes in a white Halloween mask staring back at you. The mask adorning the face of a giant figure beginning to loom up the stairs towards you. Your blood went cold. One of the figures massive hands held to the railing of the stairs, the other holding the hilt of a large kitchen knife.

Little to no hesitation you bolted towards one of the rooms, hoping he didn’t see which one, being as quite as you could as you sealed yourself behind a closet door. You curled up in the corner of the closet, hugging your knees to your chest as you held your breath.

The world was quiet again in the old house, dim moonlight shining through the silted door of the closed closet. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, almost wishing you were back home with your abusive father.

It felt like an eternity before you heard the footsteps again. The sound growing larger once they got to the top of the stairs. Now you only wait, listening as each booming step of the giant’s boots hit the wood floor. Going from room to room in a search for you. Your heart stopped as the light from the moon was suddenly shadowed out of your hiding spot. You didn’t dare look out through the slits, sealing yourself in your corner in terror. You didn’t want to die.

You heard the person shuffle outside your hiding spot. He knew you were there… what was he doing? A moment passed before you heard another shuffle and the soft cling of metal on the floor. Opening your eyes you watched at the blade you saw him holding was scooted under the small gap under the door…

Hesitantly you moved, trying your best to not make a noise, once you got a good look through the slits you managed to make out the person sitting a bit of a ways away from your hiding spot. His hands in his lap. His eyes were on the door but not on you. The masked face staring blankly as it waited.

You looked back down to the blade. The damn thing was almost as long as your arm, the slick blade was well used it seemed. Both dented one on the blade and covered in smeared dried blood. You took hold of the handle, heaving it up it seemed more like a sword in your arms, but you did well to hold it. Was this a sign of trust? Him giving you his knife? Not like you could use it, so you assume it was more of a gesture from him to show he didn’t want to hurt you.

You took the sign and went with it. Hesitantly pushing open the door just enough for it to creak, this caught his attention, his head instantly moving to look at you. The sudden gaze made you hesitate in your movement, pausing before pausing the door open enough to peek your head through. Your eyes met, well, you assumed they did. You couldn’t very well see his through the blackness of the slits in the mask. But you could very well feel his gaze on you.

Slipping your way out of the closet you felt exposed and vulnerable. The knife was in your possession but this man was very much at least three times your height. Even sitting and slouched over he was a hulking figure over you. He could very well kill you here and now…. What was stopping him?

Was it that you were a child?

You didn’t think killers had standards. Not after seeing what your father could do to you and your mother. Your father wasn’t a murderer by any means, but he did bad things quite often. So to see someone before you that was capable of taking another life so easily, made you feel strange that he wasn’t chasing after you with his knife in hand wanting to kill you.

You wondered if he did, and he was just holding back from doing so for some reason. Why were you special?

“Here.” You said softly, holding the knife out to him with strained arms. “It’s really heavy...” you said softly, your voice shook when you spoke.

He didn’t make any motion to move, simply watching you for a moment. Slowly, as to not frighten you he reached out a hand to take the knife from you. Once it was out of your grasp you felt frightened, wondering why you gave it back so willingly. He didn’t seem to think too much on it, rolling it across the floor away from you both. Seeming to keep to his route of wanting trust from you, and you suppose that keeping the knife away was a good start.

There was a long drawn out silence between you both. All the while feeling his chilling gaze bare into you. You did take this moment to study him a bit more. He wore a strange jumper, a muddied and dirtied one, but you could tell at one point it use to be a navy blue. He was huge, not just in the sense he was tall but he was a massive figure. Wide shoulders blocking your view from almost anything else in the room.

You were pulled from your gaze of his figure when he snapped his fingers in front of your face catching your attention quite easily. He simply pointed quietly towards an empty twin bed. Looking around you could see the décor of the old room. Old posters with faded ink adorned the walls. It looked to be a boy’s room, from someone that was probably only a little older than you at the time of living here.

“Is this your bedroom?” You ask hesitantly. You were met with another curious gaze before he gave a nod.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Your question was answered with another point to the bed across the room.

“You… you want me to get in the bed?”

He nodded, pointing once more for emphasis.

You didn’t think it wise to argue with him. So you did as he said, slowly making your way to the dusty twin bed before attempting to climb atop it. At home your bed was also a twin, but it lacked a bed frame. You found it quite hard to pull yourself up.

Behind you, you heard the familiar shuffle. A few thuds of boots on wood before you felt two large hands take hold of you from under your arms. You did well not to say or move in protest. Allowing him to move you atop the bed with ease. Once you were seated down, you could tell that the mattress, over the years it had lain dormant, was no better than a hard wood floor. But again you did nothing in protest. You watched as he stood, looking down at you waiting. You did what you assumed he wanted and moved to lie down on the bed. Pulling the molded sheets over yourself as you lay your head on a rather odd smelling pillow.

He seemed satisfied by this, nodding as he moved to leave the room.

Was that it? He wanted you to sleep?

You noted how he left the knife on the floor of the room as he left. The question now was, did you dare to sleep. While you were very tired, and even though the bed was uncomfortable you had slept on worst.

Soon you couldn’t stop the will of sleep, demanding your eyes close while you nearly passed out on the bed. Weather you trusted him or not really didn’t seem to matter with how incredibly tired you were. Somehow you did feel safer than when you were at your actual home with your father.

 

He had gotten her to sleep, and it felt strangely nice. Michael didn’t know why he didn’t hurt her. He did break into his home after all.

Seeing her come up to the house from the front window of the house, he watched when she struggled her way under the fence and in the door. He had quietly followed her in her search through the house, curious to why a child so small had come into his home. He would have thought children would be frightened of the old Myer house. But she seemed fine with come in.

Whenever he caught sight of her face through the house he could see how incredibly tired the child looked, only causing him to question more why she was there. He didn’t feel the desire to outright harm the child, she hadn’t wronged him in any way other than breaking into his house, and she didn’t seem like a threat.

He was tempted to just let her stay the night like he assume she planned, leaving her alone without her knowing he was there. But she had heard him. He watched as she turned back in her climb up the stairs. Her eyes widening in horror to meet his gaze. Within moment she bolted off, running off to a room he knew not where.

Michael had waited a few moments to collect his thoughts before continuing up the stairs. Curious to where she had run off to he began to go room to room in his search, glancing around for clues. He soon noticed tiny bare foot prints in the dust of the floor board leading to his old bedroom.

He followed them, stopping in the door way of the room, seeing how the prints disappeared into the closet. Quietly, despite his thudding footsteps he sat outside the closet door and waited. When nothing happened he thought up a plan. He had no intention of harming the small girl, he didn’t need to. He had no ill will towards her, and as through before, she had done nothing to wrong him.

Wanting her to come out from the closet without need of force, he decided to try and gain her trust. Looking to his blade for a moment before slipping it under the door of the closet, hoping the gesture was enough to get the tiny thing to come out from hiding.

He was a patient man, at least for the moment. Knowing full well the child was scared of him, possibly hearing stories adults told about the killer Michael Myers that had recently come back to town after his sisters death 14 years ago. Thought he assumed most thought he was dead or gone from town by now.

It wasn’t long before he heard the door creak slightly, his eyes moving down to look at her. He saw her hesitate, but he kept watching as she came out from her hiding spot, holding his weapon best she could. He hadn’t thought of how large it really was until she held it out to him, commenting on how heavy it was. He was surprised to have her handing it back to him, but didn’t question it, only taking it and tossing it aside. He didn’t need it right now, and knew the child couldn’t use it against him even if she wanted to.

Michael watched the girl’s eyes curiously looking about him, and he did the same to her. Watching her small pale form tremble slightly, though unknowing if it was due to cold or fear. Possibly both. Her nightgown was sleeveless but long. Her feet were bare and dirtied. Her skin covered in small bruises, most of which looked to be about healed up. It did only caused his curiosity to bubble more of why this child was here. She wasn’t dressed to be out so late, nor did she look old enough to be out so late.

He pushed those questions aside of why she was beat up a bit and out so late. He was more concerned with the bloodshot tired eyes she was looking him over with. She looked exhausted. Sleep. She needed sleep.

He snapped his fingers in front of her to get her attention, she blinked back to him. Shaken for a moment before calming some.

_“Is this your bedroom?”_

He nodded.

_“Do you want me to leave?”_

He frowned under the mask, before pointing towards his old bed.

_“You… you want me to get in the bed?”_

Another nod, pointing to the bed again just so she knew for curtain. Surprisingly she complied, slowly walking over to the bed he followed her with his eyes. Here Myers saw just how small this child was, she was too small to even pull herself onto his old bed.

Moving to stand, he walking over and slowly bent down. Gently as he could manage he slung fingers under her arms and lifted her up to the bed. She seemed a bit jarred about being lifted by Michael, but made no noise or complaint about.

Michael found himself liking this child a lot more. She let him do what he wanted, he had control of the situation and she listen to him. She didn’t scream or cry, though she did run once she hasn’t tried it again. He liked being in control like this, it was something he always fought for but never obtained. He gave a nod and started to leave after watching her lie down and cover up.

A few minutes past and he lurked by, watching you through the open doorway as you fell asleep. For a few hours he was like that. Standing. _Watching._ Watching you sleep from afar.

You were _his_ now. He had made up his mind already, and no one was going to have _you_ but _him_.


	2. That Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The masked man is fond of you, keeping you in his home and having tight reigns of you. He seems protective. That could mean many things for you and your sleep overs in his house. That is until nightmares of a foreign entity plague your dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dont worry my pretties, this isn't the end, my friend is now helping me write this, and we have a new part already in the works to continue this series. hope you enjoyed, you can tip us if you like at my Ko-fi linked bellow.
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/ravenpyre

You wake up coughing, was the house on fire? This didn't smell like fire smoke, though. It reeked of sulfur or rotten eggs, not too far off from the smell of a dead body. However your thoughts of a rogue fire are dashed quickly as you see long, pitch black spider-like appendages reaching down through holes in the ceiling, spikes line the arms like hair, and a thick, viscous orange liquid runs from the joints and crevices of the creature.

You try to scream out, but your words muffled, muted by your own tongue, paralyzed in place you're forced to watch the slender figure descend down on you, an appendage grazes you, its touch burns like coals but cools like an ice pack. This sudden uncomfortable feeling jolts you, and you're suddenly able to scream, the figure vanishing from before you...

Was that a dream? It felt too real.

The tall masked figure is sitting in a chair next to your bed, his head is down starring at the floor, how was he asleep through your scream? It would appear that he's all too familiar with the sound...

You spend the day after, trying to forget the nightmare from last night behind you. It wasn’t a school day, which was nice seeing as you would have been late anyway. Your mother was probably worried sick, though… then again maybe not. She did have to deal with your father more often than you did.

You weren’t sure if the masked man would let you leave, already watching you with every movement you made just getting off the bed. You didn’t mind, being a child to entertain themselves with nothing fairly easy. It was better to do nothing with the masked man than to do nothing and get beaten for it at home.

Your new guardian doesn't appear to be questioning why you screamed last night, and at this point, you're not entirely sure that he thinks about anything, or if he was even aware that you even screamed.

Occasionally the light coming in from the run down, dusty, and mostly boarded up windows shines across his mask, into the normally void, and inky holes he has over his eyes, the light comes in so you can make out his eyes, one a bright, almost beautiful color of blue, though something seems off...No emotion seems to be coming from his eye, it just stares, feeling like a dagger thrusting into your very soul. One stab for every second the Goliath kept eye contact with you.

Your eyes drift to his other eye, light revealing it as he shifts, not a single thing comes from him except a slow, raspy wheeze as he continues starring through you. You're caught off guard as the light shines into his left eye, it's dull and a completely different color from his other eye.

As you stare deeper you can almost see yourself in it, that is, until the monster in front of you shifts out of the light, hiding the pale, milky optical out of view into the dark shadows of his mask. Some time passes, and you get bored, Michael drifts off, paying less attention to you as he stares through a window.

As he's distracted, you slip off, without him knowing. You were going to stay in the house, so you assumed he wouldn’t be upset with you if you did a little exploring to keep yourself entertained just a little bit.

Going down the halls in the day was somehow spookier. The soft rays of sun slipping in through various cracks in the walls and boarded up windows let you see just how much damage this house had taken. There was blood on the walls, but dried, like it had been there a long time. Down the stairs back to the main room you wandered a bit more than you did the night before.

Going down a hall past the kitchen and to the back, you find yourself face to face with a mostly broken door to the basement of the house. You slowly take the stairs down, the boards creaking as your tiny bare feet climb down on the partially rotted boards. The last board creaks more than usual, and makes a loud _CRKK_ sound as the board snaps under your weight.

It's not entirely enough to break through the board, but it gave you a good scare and made quite a bit of noise. You step down off the dilapidated staircase, as your feet step off the broken plank and onto an unusual, entirely dirt floored basement. You explore as much as you can, but your path is blocked by a chain link fence gate, you can kind of make out some things on the other side.

Through the gate you can see what appears to be a tombstone, but the letters are dirty, warn and the basement is very dark. Your adventure comes to an abrupt end as a giant hand reaches down onto your shoulder.

You attempt to scream in surprise but another hand that practically covers your entire face covers your mouth. The tall figure takes you out of the basement, stepping up three steps at a time, and plops you down on the bed, gently but sternly.

The rest of the day went by slower than it had been going before you decided to explore. He made sure to keep a better eye on you, you knew this only because every small movement you made was followed with the mask moving to keep his good eye on you. Hours would pass without a sound from either of you.

That night was particularly awful to try and sleep, the dust from old covers that your captor had found assaulted your nose. They probably weren't touched since the house was abandoned, but you were in no position to complain. It was as was better than your mattress on the floor and towels you used to sleep under.

Though admittedly back home there was no eight foot tall man breathing at you heavily so that you might not get up in the middle of the night...Nobody really paid attention to you at all back home, in fact, the only ones who gave you any sort of attention was your dog, but not even they were safe from the harsh "lessons" your drunkard of a father would dish out on the daily. You swept all those memories away and slowly drifted to sleep...

 

* * *

 

 

You woke up suddenly, the room was darker than usual and your captor seems to be gone...A familiar smell drifts in, but passes as quickly as it came.

Your curious mind gets the better of you, you get out of bed. Hopping down off of it, your tiny body making a thunk as your feet hit the floor. You make your way back down into the basement, hopping over the broken step, you slowly go up to the gate, and it shutters open, the lock appears to be broken, smashed to bits on the floor. A single inhale and a horrid stench of death and decay attack at your senses.

Tears welling at your eyes from the stench stinging so bad in the air around you. Feeling like razor blades as the smell slices up your tiny, undeveloped nostrils. You push past the smell, and go up to the tombstone. You can only make out a few words.

**J th Mye**

Though not the best reader yet, you knew there had to be a few letters that were faded away. You ponder as to why it's down there but are quickly sent into a panic as loud, fast and heavy footsteps slam their way down the stairs.

Quickly you try to hide, but to no avail. You can hardly even think straight as the footsteps get louder and the stench increases in potency. You start trying to scream in terror, the only thing escaping is a wheeze of a breath.

You see several black tar like arms from your night mare before emerge through the depths of the dark basement before you. They shoot through the open gate, this time floating from a dark cloudy mass. You barely have time to think as one of the arms shoots directly toward you.

You close your eyes, and when you open them, it's daylight outside, and you're lying on the dirt floor beside the tombstone. You stand up quickly, a thick glob of viscous orange liquid falls off of your nose, where the creature stabbed towards...

Was that really a dream?

You rush back upstairs, quiet as a mouse and slip back into bed before the masked man wakes up and notices. You lie in bed, heart still beating rapidly from the events that just happened. You stay there, wide awake until your guardian wakes up.

A shuffle as your indication he has awoken from his statue like slumber. Moving next to the bed on his knees he pulls you out of bed gently, a familiar pain shoots through you and your stomach growls loudly.

He stood there, starring at your stomach. Colossal hands easily wrapping around your torso. A dark thought crosses your mind, as you think that he could very easily crush you, however, luckily he sits you down to the bedroom floor.

Stepping down the hallway, he stops at the bedroom door frame, looking back at you as to wordlessly say to follow. Submissively you do, lightly clinging to him, as currently he's the only protection from the tar colored spiders from your dream. At this point you're still not completely convinced that they're all in your head.

Because of it being October, the people that do notice the two of you just think your guardian is dressed up distastefully as the Haddonfield murderer. Which you're too young to know about. Though you’re surprised he doesn’t get more eyes on him, almost like he was invisible to the masses.

 A few mean looks from passersby and the occasional mean comment passes by, but you manage to zone out, and your mind drifts until suddenly you snap back, from the distinct noise of a glass bottle smashes.

You look up, and immediately shield your eyes as green shattered glass rains down from a bottle smashing against your guardian’s mask. You hear his breathing grow heavier as he stomps over to who threw the bottle, a scrawny looking punk, with a terrible haircut and wild dye in it.

They square up, acting tough up to the point where they get lifted off the ground and slammed back into the concrete. Michael's boot raises up.

_Stomp_

_Stomp_

...His third stomp is stopped by you tugging on his pant leg, his leg slowly lowering. The punk crawls up, in tears and runs away.

Michael stares at you, tilting his head down. You can see his eyes blink a few times before he looks over to where the punk was, lets out a displeased wheeze and continues to where he was heading before.

There’s a moment before you both continue past the scene, your eyes trailing for a moment to the shards of broken glass scattered in a pool of blood. All of it seemed too familiar from your life at home.

You didn’t care about the teen so much, he did start it. But you didn’t think he needed to be hurt that much. No one deserves the amount of pain that you and your mother felt. That boy got close to that…

You try to push those memories aside, but can't help as they gnaw on your conscious, vile thoughts against your father flood your mind, things that you've never thought about before. Your tiny mind starts hurting, a searing pain shoots through your head as thoughts burrow deeper, writhing like larva in your brain. Rapid thoughts keep marking across your mind, a vivid recreation of your father's beatings flash across with every thought...

 

**_How could they do this to you? You're just a child, you should get revenge. Take your anger out on the one you hate the most...He can help you...I can save you._ **

 

You blink rapidly, the thoughts not of your own fade. You're shaken, and you can't help to do anything but break down. Tears well in your ducts as you start bawling, and fall down.

The tall figure looks back at you, studying for a second before walking over to you. He kneels down, and pats you gently, but you keep sobbing, that is until he picks you up, putting an arm under you and the other around your torso, holding you against himself.

You nuzzle your face deep into the man's shoulder, your tears soaking into his navy boiler suit. Your sobs muffled into the fabric. With a sniffle, you lean your head back, sniffing mucus back into your nose.

You look up at the man holding you, his eye being lit up by the sunlight. Vague emotions read from his eye, but they're muffled, almost muted, but still there in the deep, unknown reaches of his mind.

He makes a groan, and slowly sets you down. You look around while back on the sidewalk, your eyes grow wide as your vision drifts over a familiar scene. An unkempt, dirty looking house sits ominously in front of you. You tug on Michael's leg, pointing at the house. Without a sound, you quickly took off toward the house.

A very familiar four legged friend in the window, you can tell he's barking at you, but the sound is muffled behind the glass. You run up the front steps, and tap on the door rapidly, as the tall man slowly walks his way up behind you. Banging and a crash is heard inside, the doorknob turns and you're greeted by your mother.

She looks worst for ware, not how you remember seeing her before you left. Her hair was tied up into a bun that looked knotted, like someone had been pulling at it. A dark circle on one of her cheeks began to form with the swollen puff to follow from being hit.

"Y/n? What are you doing outside? I thought you were in your room. Hurry now, run back there and hope your father doesn’t see you." Your mother ushered you inside.

Before you could get a word out, you turn back to see that your masked guardian was missing from where he had stood behind you. A pit formed in your gut, leaving you nervous. You did as your mother said, trying to run to your room.

Not before a large and rough hand of your father caught you by your arm, yanking you and throwing you to the ground. "Did I just see you come in from outside?!" his voice slurred in rage, towering over you.

"I was just... Playing outside-" "You don't get to do shit unless I say so! You hear me?" He yelled, taking a dangerous step towards you. You whimper out muttered apologies, trying to stand to run to the safety of your room. A numb but sharp pain tingles over your face as you’re soon thrown to the floor from a hard back hand to the face from your father. Tears burn at your eyes once more as you lay prone on the ground.

"Leave her alone, she just wants to-" Your mother goes silent as your father raises his hand again. "That's what I thought." Your father gives a disgusting burp like sound before breaking his empty beer bottle over your back. "Now clean this up! Both of you!" He hollered, sauntering off to the kitchen. Your mother helps you to your feet, making sure you were alright before you both began to pick up pieces of broken glass from the carpet.

A loud snap of wood is heard before a commotion sounds in the kitchen. Your father comes into view, fighting off your masked guardian who is holding his massive kitchen knife high above his head towards your father.

Your mother screams, taking you in her arms and cowering against a wall. You wriggle in her grasp to go see what is happening in the kitchen out of your view. By the time you manage to do so, you see the masked man fall on the floor with the knife in his shoulder.

Your father comes into view, panting with a large cut to his leg. He limps over to your guardian to possible finish the job. Your body suddenly aches, your head pounding as vivid imagery of what you suddenly want to do. What this foreign voice in your head makes you believe you've wanted to do for so long comes to thought. Your dad is on his knees coughing, eyes closed.

You haven't even noticed with your vision fogged by black smog that you have pulled the knife from your guardians shoulder, walking to your father. Being this close to him, smelling the beer and the blood. Feeling the stinging pain on the cheek you scream out before stabbing him in the back. Your fathers cry of pain and swearing only fuels your growing rage more.

"You won’t hurt him! You won’t hurt mom! And you won’t hurt me!" you scream louder and louder, stabbing your father more and more even after he's stopped moving. "You won’t! You won’t! You won’t!"

When you finally feel the rage settling, you’re panting and coated in blood, holding the knife in both hands and looking down at your job well done. A smile creeps to your face, a smile of relief as you look back to your mother. Why is she crying? She must be happy too! You’re both free! She must be so proud of you! You walk towards her to hug her, but she screams...

"Get away from me! You murderer!"

Your features contorted to that of confusion, you don't get a chance to speak before she throws the closest thing to her at you. An old vase clatters against your face, you whimper out, falling back. Feeling new cuts across your face causes the anger to start to bubble up again. You stop yourself. This was your mommy! You couldn't hurt your mommy! But you were so mad!

 

**_She never stopped your father from hurting you. What better was she to him? She still hurt you in the end. Let the pain out... Let me save you._ **

 

The voice in your head causing you to cry out in pain. Feeling like a wasps were swarming your skull. Fingers so tightly held to the knife your fingertips began to bleed. You scream out, throwing the knife to the ground before bolting out the back door without a second thought. You were scared, you didn't want to hurt anyone else! But at the same time, you wanted everyone to suffer who didn't help you. Everyone who didn't give you a second glance to feel pain.

 

_**Everything must burn. Everyone must die! You want it! You want them all to feel pain!** _

 

You clamber up, shaking. You scream out. "Just leave! Leave me alone!" A feeling that can only be described as a chainsaw defiles your mind.

 

**_No...This is what you want! You want to get revenge on those who hurt you! You want them to feel HOPE before you strip them of their lives! They are but cattle before you, destined for the culling that you....That I...._ _That WE_ _need to give them._**

 

You shriek out, your body spasms and squirms in pain, muffled barks slowly get louder until you open up your eyes. There stands you your dog, a beautiful golden retriever, with a bad hip from your father. He slowly nuzzles up against you, licking some of the blood off of your face.

Your mind is at ease, the nightmare creature is silent. It's almost peaceful for a couple of seconds, until the gravity of what you just did hits you. You burst out into a sob, crying into the fur of your dog. Your abuser is gone forever, you should be happy right? But something doesn't feel right...your mother hates you now, from all you can tell your guardian is dead, and you can hear sirens in the distance. You see your mother run past a gap in the fence, you lean up to try and speak, but you just break down again.

You stand up, and quickly run inside, your guardian is missing from the floor, but from where he was before, was a massive pool of blood. You look out the window and see red and blue lights pull up. You panic, turning around to go back outside, you stop to look at your motionless father... quickly giving him a swift kick, before running outside.

You get down on your stomach, climbing under the fence. You give your dog one last pet from under the fence as he whines, as he's too big to fit under. You whisper, "I'll come back later..." And run off to the run down house you originally came to two days ago.

Slowly you step through the door. Inside is dark, it's mostly dark outside, and so little natural light is seeping in. You check the entire house, your guardian nowhere to be seen...Except one room. You climb down to the kitchen again, walking up to the ruined basement door, slowly pushing it open. You climb down into the basement.

"Hello?" You call out, the only response is the slight echo ringing through the empty house. You make your way over to the tombstone, you can't see anything new, especially not in the dark. You slowly turn around, and let out a surprised gasp, as your guardian is standing over you, clutching his knife wound.

He slowly kneels down to you, you can see his blue eyes glimmering in pain before his hulking figure falls over, landing just in front of you. In his back is a long, black spider-like leg is sticking through him.

"N-no! Leave him alone!" You yell out, a sudden appendage coming from the ceiling, striking you in the shoulder, piercing through your flesh and bone. You cry out in pain as the spiked hairs dig in like fish hooks in your skin.

 

_**I GAVE YOU A CHANCE! YOU COULD'VE JOINED ME, BUT NOW YOU'LL BE LIKE THEM!** _

 

Your ears ring from the booming voice piercing your mind like bullets. A second appendage shoots out, and just before you see it make contact, you pass out.


End file.
